


Christmas Memories

by BuckinghamAlice



Series: Spending Holidays with the SuperBats [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Superman - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Party, Domestic, First Kiss, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 17:47:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuckinghamAlice/pseuds/BuckinghamAlice
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five scenes from five different Christmases in Bruce Wayne's life.</p><p>(AKA that time when I had lots of little ideas instead of one big one so I wrote five mini-fics because Christmas.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Knitting Lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Bruce and his mother make homemade Christmas gifts.

It was two weeks before Christmas, and young Bruce Wayne was sitting on the rug just beside his mother, frowning in frustration at the pile of yarn in his lap.  His mother very much believed in boys knowing practical things like cooking and sewing, and when seven year old Bruce had had those lessons, he had enjoyed them.  But she also considered knitting a practical skill, and Bruce found himself no good at it.  At all.

“Mother,” he sighed.  “I just don’t think I’ll ever be able to do this the way you do.”  He dropped the grey yarn and long wooden needles beside him.  “I can’t give Father that mess and call it a Christmas present.”

Martha Wayne smiled softly and shook her head at the boy.  “My darling... do you really suppose your father cares what the present looks like?  He’s going to love it just because it’s from you.  And a handmade gift is very thoughtful, even if it isn’t perfect.”

“It should be perfect, though,” Bruce insisted, standing up and admiring the straight rows of small, neat stitches made with the vibrant green yarn his mother was turning into a pair of warm socks.  He ran his hand over the sock that was nearing completion and added, “I want to make something perfect like that.”

“Oh, this is hardly perfect,” Martha laughed.  “I’ve dropped stitches in places where I shouldn’t have and added some in other places.  And I purled a whole row down here because I wasn’t paying attention.”

Bruce looked unconvinced.  “Still better than my scarf.”  Bruce was learning the basic knit stitch, perfect for making scarves or practicing making rows of neat and even stitches, but his stitches had come out lumpy and oddly spaced. 

“You’re still learning,” Martha soothed.  “You have to learn to walk before you can run, right?  Well, you also have to learn how to make sloppy stitches before you can learn how to make neat ones.”

Bruce smiled.  “You’re just saying that to make me feel better.”

Martha grinned.  “It’s working, isn’t it?”

“Maybe,” Bruce replied.  He picked up his knitting from where he had dropped it and tried again, this time going even more slowly and carefully.  The mother and son worked in silence for some time, Bruce cross legged on the floor and sticking the tip of his tongue out as he concentrated.  Eventually Martha set her needles aside and held up a sock for Bruce’s approval.

“What do you think?” she asked.

Bruce nodded.  “They look great, Mother.”

Martha smiled softly and handed the socks to the boy.  “Well, here.  I want you to give them to your father.  You can go and play and I’ll finish up this scarf.”

“But he’ll know I didn’t make these,” Bruce protested.  “And anyone could tell you didn’t make that ugly scarf.”

Martha took the boy’s hand.  “That doesn’t matter.  Go ahead and give him the socks… I’ve already given him his big gift.”

Bruce cocked his head to one side.  “What was it?”

And Martha tweaked his cheek.  “Why, you, of course, my love.  You’re the best gift either of us has ever gotten.”  Bruce blushed and accepted the socks, because there was no other response to make.  And on Christmas morning, Thomas exclaimed over the socks and the scarf Martha had managed to salvage, and Bruce was pleased that his father was tactful enough not to comment on the fact that the boy obviously didn’t make the socks.  One little present that was made of no more than some yarn and a little time well-spent had made them all very happy that Christmas morning, and suddenly the knitting lessons no longer felt like they had been a waste.


	2. Mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clark has a Christmas movie night at his apartment, and his new mistletoe hat provides for excellent entertainment.

One December, back when Clark lived in his first apartment in Metropolis, he invited a few people over for a Christmas movie night a couple of days before the holiday.  Bruce was Clark’s best friend, and the first person he invited, though he didn’t honestly expect him to actually come.  So he was pleasantly surprised when Bruce was the first to arrive.

“Here,” he said, walking through the door and shoving a long gift bag into Clark’s hand.  He took off his plaid scarf (the one Clark had given him for the previous Christmas) and black wool pea coat and hung them in Clark’s coat closet.

Clark smiled.  “You didn’t need to get me anything.  And besides, I’m going to see you again before Christmas, aren’t I?”

“That’s not your Christmas present,” Bruce said, shaking his head.  “It’s a host gift.”

“Well, that was thoughtful,” Clark said.  “Thanks.”

Bruce shrugged.  “Don’t thank me yet.  Open it.”

Clark smiled and opened the bag and pulled out a bottle of cabernet sauvignon and a packet of mulling spices.  He brought the spices close to his nose and inhaled deeply.  It smelled like Christmas.  “This is wonderful… great idea, too,” he said.  “Thanks.”

By the time the other guests (Diana, Lois, and Jimmy) arrived, the apartment was full of the delightful smell of mulled wine.  Clark was embarrassed and pleased by the fact that they all brought gifts, too.  Lois brought a carton of eggnog and a bottle of rum, and Diana brought a gingerbread loaf cake with cream cheese frosting.  Jimmy, being Jimmy, gave Clark a gag gift – a Santa hat with a faux sprig of mistletoe attached by the white ball.

Clark laughed.  “Thanks, Jim… but I don’t think I should wear this.”

“Oh, come on, Smallville,” Lois said with a laugh.  “I think it’s kind of cute.”

“She’s right, Kal,” Diana said, placing the hat atop his head.  “It’s festive.”  Clark reluctantly agreed to wear the hat, and he almost forgot it was up there as they all had eggnog with run and gingerbread and started the first Christmas movie – the 1951 version of _A Christmas Carol_.

Bruce and Clark were sitting side by side on the couch when Bruce leaned closer and whispered, “You know what I always found bothersome about this story?  He changes his ways because he sees himself dead rather than anything else those ghosts showed him.  Being dead is inevitable, but letting Tiny Tim starve isn’t.”

Clark flashed Bruce a grin.  “You’ve got a problem with _A Christmas Carol_?”

“I didn’t say I had a problem with it,” Bruce protested in a stage whisper.  “It’s a great story… and I actually like it.  I just find it silly is all.”

Clark started to make a response, but Lois hushed him with, “Can it, you two.  _Some_ of us came here for a movie night, not a gossip night.”  They were quiet for the rest of the movie, even when Clark put his arm behind Bruce on the back of the couch and when Bruce absentmindedly knocked his knee into Clark’s, their legs pressing up against one another, as if the couch was more crowded than it actually was.

The next movie up was _It_ _Happened on Fifth Avenue_ , which Bruce had never seen.  Classic movie buff Clark had seen it at least a dozen times, so he didn’t mind having a bit of discussion.

“They’re going to get together at the end,” Bruce said flatly, almost as soon as the female lead was introduced.

“Shh,” Clark shushed him playfully.  “Don’t ruin it for everyone else.”

Bruce shook his head.  “Everyone saw it coming a mile away.”  He paused for a moment and said, “You know, this is overly sentimental and a little maudlin even for you, Clark.”

“What’s the matter with a little sentimentality?” Clark asked.

Diana turned to the two of them, annoyed expression on her face.  “Would you two hens take all this chattering elsewhere?  I’ve never seen this.”

Clark smiled.  “Let’s go to the kitchen.  It’s probably past time that we could have served up that mulled wine anyways.”  They quietly made their way to the kitchen, and in a few minutes time, they were sipping warm, spicy mulled wine from matching mugs.  Bruce continued to point out what he perceived to be flaws in the movie while Clark defended it, laughing quietly at his friend.  They stood close together and spoke quietly, so as not to disturb the others.

Some time passed, and Jimmy came into the kitchen.  Pouring himself another glass of eggnog, he laughed, “Look at the two of you!  You’re awful close together… you’re both under the mistletoe now!”  He grinned.  “You know what that means.”

Clark looked up and sighed.  He had almost forgotten about the mistletoe attached to his hat.  “You don’t have to,” he began, glancing back to Bruce, slightly nervous and a little blush beginning on his cheeks.  “I mean, if you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

Bruce shrugged.  “It’s fine.  It’s…” he paused for a moment, as if searching for the right word.  He eventually settled on, “Tradition.”  Clark flashed a nervous smile as Bruce came closer and pressed a very soft little kiss to his lips.  But Clark pulled him closer and kissed him back, a little harder, a little deeper, and they slowly moved to where their arms were around one another. 

But they were brought back to reality by Jimmy clearing his throat.  They pulled apart, Clark already blushing hard.  “I… just be thankful I didn’t get him the mistletoe belt instead,” Jimmy managed before retreating with his eggnog.

“I’m gonna take this off now,” Clark said, lifting the hat and putting it on the counter, still blushing.  “I’m gonna go back… out there.”  Bruce looked at ground and nodded silently.  But he didn’t follow Clark.  When Clark looked back again, Bruce was busying himself, washing the glasses and mugs that were sitting on the kitchen counter.

As the movie ended, everyone said their goodbyes and left.  Everyone, that is, but Bruce, who was still in the kitchen, being even more quiet than usual.  Clark went and stood in the doorway to his kitchen and offered a weak smile to his friend.  “Thanks for doing the dishes.  You didn’t have to.”

He shrugged.  “I didn’t mind.”

Clark nodded.  “Bruce, I… I’m sorry.  About before,” he began.

“Why should you be sorry?” Bruce asked softly.

Clark shrugged.  “I took things too far.  I didn’t mean to…”

But Bruce interrupted him.  “You didn’t.  It wasn’t too far.”

Clark smiled.  “Really?” 

“Really,” Bruce answered with a little smile.  “It was… it could have gone a lot farther than that and you still wouldn’t need to be sorry.”

Clark heaved a little sigh of relief before inching a little closer and picking up the hat.  “So, in that case, it’d be okay if I put this hat back on and stood beside you.”

Bruce smirked.  “Do it and see what happens.”  Clark slipped the hat on and moved in closer, and Bruce quickly closed the distance between them.  But it didn’t start off slow and sweet this time.  They closed in on one another, and kissed hungrily, passionately, hardly breathing.  Just sticking to one another like magnets.  It would have been silly, the two of them making out in the kitchen, it hadn’t felt so perfect. 

“Bruce?” Clark began after a few moments, pulling his face away from Bruce’s for the briefest second.

“Hm,” he answered between kisses.  Once they had started, they didn’t want to stop.

“Are we really blaming this on the mistletoe?” Clark asked, fingers playing idly with the hem of Bruce’s shirt.

Bruce licked his bottom lip and said, “Yes.  Yes, we are.”

“Okay,” Clark said, grinning.  “Just thought I’d ask.”  Before long, they made their way over to the couch, and a number of things happened, some of which they could blame on the mistletoe, but most of which they couldn’t.  But they didn’t care… and it was the first of many merry Christmases for the two of them together.


	3. Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and young Dick join Clark for their first Christmas in Smallville.

“Wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up.”

Bruce threw the old quilt on Clark’s childhood bed up over his head.  It hadn’t been an easy night’s sleep, what with the fact that he and Clark were sandwiched together in a brass framed twin bed with an old mattress.  And now it was barely past six AM, and here was Dick…

“Wake up, you guys!” Dick insisted.

Clark sat up and smiled.  “It’s Christmas morning.”

“Oh, God,” Bruce grumbled.  “You’re as bad as he is… but at least he has the excuse of being an actual child.”

“Come on,” Clark said happily.  “Don’t be such a Grinch.”

_Why me?_ Bruce grumbled to himself as he was forced to get out of bed and trudge down the stairs after Dick and Clark.  But he wasn’t really unhappy.  He wasn’t fooling anyone.  This was the first Christmas Clark had invited him to Smallville, and he had never, in his life, been so happy to sleep in an uncomfortable little bed and wake up too early in the morning.

The Kents were already bustling about downstairs, and they smiled excitedly when they saw their three visitors coming down the stairs.  “Merry Christmas!” they said, almost in unison.  “Santa’s been here,” Martha added with a smile.

Dick practically became airborne as he scampered from the stairs to the mantel to check his stocking.

“Please tell me there’s coffee,” Bruce said.

Jonathan smiled.  “There is!  And candy cane cocoa, if anyone is interested.”

After coffee, cocoa, and admiring of the stocking stuffers, they all gathered around the tree to exchange presents.  Jonathan gave Martha a lovely new bracelet, and she gave him new gloves with a matching scarf and a suit jacket.  Jonathan gave Bruce and Clark both monogrammed mugs that he had painted himself, and he made Dick and sled.  Bruce and Clark gave Dick GameBoy games and books (as well as a few other things that were stashed away back at the Manor) because it was fun to have a little boy to spoil at Christmas.  Bruce gave the Kents a blank check that they tried to refuse, and Clark gave his father a watch and his mother painting supplies because she was taking art lessons.

Dick gave Bruce and Clark a gift that made them blush.  In two packages wrapped in matching striped paper, Clark got a pair of grey flannel pajama pants with green piping around the cuffs and a subtle pattern of green plaid.  In Bruce’s package was the shirt to match.  Dick began to laugh as Bruce said, “Thank you.  This is terribly inappropriate and we’ll never wear them, but thank you.”

Martha’s gifts to Clark, Bruce, and Dick went together.  She had knitted them all matching deep blue sweaters. Clark’s had an argyle pattern across the chest done in shades of red and Bruce’s was black and grey.  Dick’s had three tiny little birds done in a lighter blue.  They were all made of soft, warm yarn so they would be comfortable for the winter but not scratchy.  They were a big hit.  Dick immediately put his on over his pajamas and took his sled out to play.

And Clark and Bruce had agreed in advance not to buy one another anything.  Neither of them particularly needed anything and they both had what they wanted now, so they just decided to skip it.  But they both had little trinkets for one another on Christmas morning.  Bruce gave Clark a Gray Ghost action figure with a letter full of the types of things he wasn’t able to say out loud.  And Clark gave Bruce a tie with a light-up Christmas tree and a mixed tape full of songs that said the types of things Clark loved to say to Bruce to get him flustered.

Later in the day, after Christmas dinner, several friendly visitors to the farm, and a couple of Christmas movies, Clark and Bruce were sitting together on the porch swing under a warm blanket, drinking cocoa together.

“Thank you for coming out here,” Clark said.  “I know it wasn’t easy.”

Bruce gave a half-smile.  “It wasn’t so bad.  It was actually… nice.  Thank you for inviting me.”

Clark smiled and slunk down in his seat a little so he could put his head on Bruce’s shoulder.  “Merry Christmas, Bruce.”

“Merry Christmas, Clark,”


	4. Merry Christmas, Jason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason's first Christmas at Wayne Manor was full of surprises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this on tumblr a while back, so you may already have read/seen it.

Jason had gone to bed at a reasonable hour.  Alfred had insisted, and even though he had put up a little fight, he didn’t really mind.  Because this was his first Christmas at the manor, and everything seemed so magical already… he couldn’t imagine what Christmas morning would be like.  So he had not slept much, just from pure excitement.

He was too old to run down the stairs in his pajamas to see what Santa had brought him, but when he saw the sun come up, he was tempted to do it anyways.  He got out of bed, put on his robe and slippers, and went to brush his teeth.  But when he got back to his room, he was surprised to see Bruce waiting there for him.

"Hey, old man, I didn’t even know you knew there was a seven in the _morning_ ,” Jason said with a mischievous smile.

Bruce smirked.  ”I’ve been up for hours… I ran into Santa last night, and we had a lengthy debate about you.  I stopped him just before he slipped a big, fat piece of coal in your stocking.”

"Coal!" Jason exclaimed, affronted.  "That woulda been bullshit.  I’ve behaved all year."

Bruce pointed a warning finger.  ”Watch your mouth, kid.”

"Sorry," Jason said, wincing.  He wouldn’t put it past Bruce to give him presents and then take them away for a week as a punishment for mouthing off.

Bruce shook his head.  ”Never mind.  Why don’t you go on downstairs and see what’s waiting for you under the tree?”

Jason grinned and grabbed the man’s hand.  ”C’mon!”  He pulled Bruce after him, but once he reached the grand staircase he let go of his hand and did exactly what he thought he wouldn’t — run down the stairs and straight to the fireplace to check his stocking.

He had gotten a good haul — a chocolate orange, three candy canes, an apple, some pecans, a pack of baseball cards, an Iron Man action figure, and gift card for one of the music stores in the mall.

He stuck a candy cane in his mouth as he began to eye the stack of presents under the tree.  Just then, Alfred came in with a tray with little glasses of eggnog and Christmas cookies.

"Happy Christmas, Master Jason," he said, handing the boy his eggnog.

Jason stuck the candy cane in his pocket and smiled at the butler.  ”Thanks.  Uh, happy Christmas yourself.”  After he had drank his eggnog and polished off a few cookies, he began to look at the presents under the tree.  He sat in front of it, his feet under the branches, and handed Bruce and Alfred gifts and setting aside the ones for the friends and family members who weren’t there.  But he noticed as he pulled out the last package that there was nothing for him under the tree.

He wasn’t sad or mad.  He was a big kid, used to not having everything he wanted (and sometimes not anything he needed), so he didn’t complain.  He was grateful for what he had gotten in his stocking.  He cracked the chocolate orange open and offered Bruce a slice.

"No, thank you," the man said, waving his hand.  "But you know… I think you may have missed one of the gifts.  Look around the back there, just behind the tree."

Jason furrowed his brows and looked.  ”There’s nothin’ back here…”  But while he was looking, Bruce got up and wheeled a brand new bicycle with a big red bow in from his study.

"Oh, that’s right," Bruce said.  " _Here_ it is.”

Jason’s head whipped around so fast it was a small wonder he didn’t give himself whiplash.  He grinned when he saw the shining bike and exclaimed, “Oh, wow!  Is this… this is really for me?”

"Of course," Bruce said with a soft smile.  Jason hopped on the bike and grinned as he rode it across the room.  "Merry Christmas, Jay," Bruce said fondly, quietly.

But the boy didn’t hear him over Alfred’s exclamation of, “Master Jason, you will not ride that contraption in this house!”


	5. Secret Santa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce and Clark go to a JL Christmas party and discover that the Secret Santa exchange was rigged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I posted this on tumblr a while ago, so you may have already read/seen it.

The Justice League Christmas party was almost ready to wind to a close.  All that was left of the gingerbread Robins were a few crumbs and everyone had had entirely too much eggnog.  They had all agreed to save the gift exchange for the very last thing, after the dinner and the treats and the dozen karaoke renditions of “Jingle Bell Rock.”

Clark was wearing a Santa hat and had his arm draped over the back of Diana’s chair and Bruce was sitting across the room, looking uncharacteristically anxious.

Ollie had gotten Shayera a Visa gift card.  Wally had gotten J’onn a book about international airports.  Dinah had given Zatanna seven new pairs of fishnets (one for each day of the week).  The presents were all handed out, some of them getting a laugh from the group as they were obvious gags, and others impressing the person who was getting the gift with their thoughtfulness.

When Bruce realized that the only people who had neither given nor received gifts were him and Clark, he felt his cheeks grow hot and he made a quick exit.  He had already felt self-conscious… and now that he realized his friends had set him up, he had no desire to give them the scene they had hoped for.

Clark had also realized what was happening and was also a bit embarrassed.  But when he saw Bruce leave, he figured he was annoyed by the situation, so he went after him to calm him down.

"Hang on, Bruce," Clark said, once he was in the hallway with the annoyed man.  Bruce sighed and turned around and did his best to put on a scowl.  He wasn’t mad at Clark… but he felt like he should be.

"We were set up," he said simply.

"Yeah," Clark said softly.  Then he gently added, "By our friends, who meant well."

Bruce sighed.  ”They think they’re so clever.”

"We associate with pushy people," Clark said with a little smile.  Bruce rolled his eyes.  Clark smiled again and put his hand over the small package in his coat pocket.  "Why don’t we exchange presents out here, right now?"

Bruce’s eyes widened.  He felt the small parcel in his pocket and sighed.  It was now or never.  He had been wanting to give this to Clark for some time… he had bought it a month before the previous Christmas but had yet to find the nerve.  He didn’t know why he thought he could… in front of everyone…

He closed his eyes tight and pulled the small box and shoved into Clark’s hand.  ”Here.  It’s… I…”  But his eyes snapped open when he heard laughter.  Clark was looking at the ring he had offered him, eyes shining.  Bruce furrowed his brows and said, “Well, I’m glad this proposal is so funny.  You didn’t need to laugh in my face… you might have just said no…”

Clark abruptly stopped laughing and his eyes clouded.  ”No?  You thought I’d say no?  Oh, for someone so very _clever_ you can be so dense.  I was laughing because… well, look.”  He reached into his pocket and pulled out the little box he had been hiding and handed it to Bruce.

He opened it and had to smile at the sight of a simple shining band.  ”You were going to propose to me as well,” Bruce said.

Clark grinned.  ”I’ll say yes if you will.”  Bruce’s answer was to pull him by the collar in for a kiss.

It was a yes.


End file.
